


A Song for Goodnight

by lillpon



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen, KnightRook, Mentions of Blood, Minor Character Death, some descriptions of illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 06:29:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12858768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillpon/pseuds/lillpon
Summary: Alice Jones I sings a lullaby to her son.A long time later, Killian Jones sings the same lullaby to his daughter.





	A Song for Goodnight

**Author's Note:**

> What are summaries? This is just an excuse to write down my Jones family feels, y'all.

"You'll keep the lantern lit, aye?"

"Aye, love. Worry not for that." Alice caressed her son's forehead softly, brushing away a few stray locks.

Killian's hair, always easier to tame. Nothing like Liam's wild curls.

"Now, would you like a bedtime story? I haven't told you the Big Friendly Giant in a long time..."

"Little Killy, still needing stories to sleep?" Liam's voice was heard from the door. He was peeking his head inside, his grin spread from ear to ear. Her little troublemaker.

"Hush, Liam," she said. "Go back to bed."

He stuck out his tongue at his little brother and left without a second word.

"He's so annoying, Mama."

A sad smile appeared on her lips and she desperately tried to hide it. "I think he's just jealous  _he_ doesn't get a bedtime story anymore. You know he loves you, right?"

"Aye," Killian said, dropping his eyes to his chest. "And I love him too. But he's annoying."

Alice brushed her fingers through his hair again, desperate to memorize the feeling of it. She coughed, managing to make it small and keep her mouth closed.

"Mama? Can you sing tonight?"

Her eyes lit up and she turned to him, smiling widely. He hadn't asked of that for some time.

"Any preference, love?"

He only needed to hum the beginning of the melody. Gods above, she was happy she managed to teach him how to sing. She knew it wouldn't be wise to use her own voice now, but his eyes,  _her_ eyes, looked so happy and eager to hear her sing...

 _My young love said to me_  
_My mother won't mind_  
_And me father won't slight you_  
_For your lack of kind_

A cough escaped her, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

No blood. Good.

 _And she stepped away from me_  
_And this she did say_  
_It will not be long love_  
_Till our wedding day_

As she took a breath to continue, her throat stung and she coughed. Knowing full well what that entailed, she pulled the handkerchief from her pocket and coughed, drops of blood landing on it.

To her horror, Killian saw the red spots.

"Mama?"

"Not to worry, love. I'll be fine."

His eyebrows furrowed. Damn those brows, he was only eight and his face could be so expressive...

"Close your eyes."

He did, eventually, as she went on with the rest of the song. When she heard a soft snore coming from him, though his face still appeared worried, she leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“Goodnight, my little sailor,” she said. She then fixed the wick so the flame would be there, enough to give the room some light but safer to leave unattended. She swallowed her cough and ran out of his room, finally giving in to her coughing fit once Killian's door was closed.

Brennan's arms were around her immediately.

"Alice?"

"It's alright." She waved her hand at him and coughed again, spilling blood at the handkerchief. "Oh," she breathed.

"Come, let's get you to bed."

After she was settled, Alice looked at her husband. She couldn't deny that she was scared. Her time was very short, what would become of them? Her boys? How would Brennan fare?

Buried deep down within her was the fear that he wouldn't make it. That he would eventually put his needs above their sons... She always tried to keep that fear hidden where it should be, to not allow Liam and Killian to ever doubt him...

"Brennan, listen to me."

He looked up from her hand, tucked between his, and he stared at her eyes. She wanted to believe what she saw in his eyes were tears, not a trick from the flickering flame of the candle. Or her own weakened eyesight, for that matter.

"Take care of them, will you?"

"Don't talk like that." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

"I need you to promise me," she said weakly, feeling the cough bubble up inside her as tears escaped her eyes.

"I promise. I promise, my love."

There. That should be enough.

She knew her time was coming, yet she couldn't... she had to leave this world with some kind of hope. Deep down she knew it was false, but it was all she had.

She smiled, and closed her eyes.

Brennan felt her hand go limp in both of his. He couldn't hear her labored breathing anymore. He opened his mouth, her name dying on his lips as another worried voice was heard.

"Mama?"

Killian.

"Oh, m'boy..."

"Mama? Is she asleep?" he asked his father as the man walked to the door silently. "What is it? Mama!" he added as he turned to look at his mother's slack form, her bloody handkerchief still held on her hand. "Mama!"

Brennan picked him up and took him away from the door. He shouldn't have seen this...

"Mama!" Killian was crying. Brennan first felt the sobs rocking his son's body before they were heard aloud. He held him close, now away from their bedroom, and Killian clutched onto him with force, as he kept on crying and whispering "Mama... Mama..."

* * *

"Papa! Papa, it hurts!"

"Shh... I know, darling, I know..."

Alice cried loudly, tears streaming down her small and already reddened face. "It hurts!"

Killian balanced his daughter better on his lap, allowing her to lean on him while he examined her wounded arm. One slight movement and a shriek from her confirmed his suspicions.

"It's broken, love. Stay still."

"It hurts!" she cried as she sobbed against his shirt.

He balanced her broken arm on his left one as his hand caressed her head softly. "It's gonna be alright. It's alright. We'll fix it, aye?"

Her response was only choked sobs.

"We'll fix it. We'll make the pain go away. But... but..." He swallowed hard. It was never easy to announce his leaving. "I need to bring a doctor here."

"No! No, don't leave me, please, Papa!"

"I'll be back faster than ever, we need to fix your arm..." he tried, but his own voice betrayed his reluctance to leave.

"No! Don't leave! Use the magic!"

He closed his eyes and bit his lip. The leftover petal had done its work many a time he'd found himself at a loss, but from the looks of it he guessed it was nearing its end. If there even was enough magic left to heal her, it would probably not suffice for anything else.

"Please! Use the magic, Papa. Don't leave me."

He knew that the sob accompanying her pleas wasn't only because of the injury. Tears stung at his eyes - much like every time he had to leave - and he bent his head, kissing her soft blonde locks.

"I won't. I'll stay," he said softly, a small sigh escaping. "Let me fetch the petal."

She sniffled and stepped down, crying out as the movement jostled at her arm and he felt like he was being stabbed himself. It wasn't the first time she got injured like that, and he guessed it would always feel as bad as the first time. He took the petal and breathed deeply, hoping against hope this wasn't its end.

He held it above Alice's arm, rubbed at it with his fingers and bright yellow dust started falling from it, right where a bruise was forming. In seconds, a snapping sound was heard and the bruise disappeared, as a smile appeared on Alice's face.

It was short-lived, however, as her face fell when she saw the petal wither completely, now a dead, dry thing.

She put her arms behind her back. "I'm sorry, Papa."

He set the petal down on the table. "Be sorry that you jumped from so up high. Don't be sorry you're feeling better, see?" He brought her arm in front with his hook and tapped at the previously injured place with his fingers, turning to tickling as they went up her arm and shoulder. Alice shrieked a laughter, always a loud one, and pulled away with a smile.

"I won't jump from so high again. I promise." Her face was down, however, as she said that. "Is there not another flower?"

He swallowed as he thought. There was always a possibility another one had grown... But the garden was far away from the closest village and any trek that didn't guarantee supplies wasn't worth risking leaving his five-year-old rascal alone. Although, another source of magic for help would be very precious to both of them... And for different reasons for each one.

He bent down on one knee to look her in the eye. "If you promise me you'll stay put, and you'll be careful to not get hurt again, I may find some time to go search for another one." She nodded vigorously. "I don't know if I'll even find one," he said, holding up his hand to stop her, "but I can look."

"Can't you buy one? What if  _you_ get hurt?"

He smiled at her. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah," she said, frowning, "because you can leave and go find a doctor!" Her eyebrows started to furrow.

"It's not that. Do you remember what I told you about this?" He held up his hook. On their own, his lips pursed together and his voice went lower. "That I lost it during a mighty fight with a crocodile!" he said with emphasis as he pointed at the hook with his hand. Keeping his lips pursed and his one eyebrow raised, he turned towards her, and she giggled. "Any other harm that may come upon me, I shall fight it valiantly!" he said and laid his open palm on his chest as he puffed it, earning another giggle from Alice.

"And I will help you, Papa! I'll fight with you!" she said with a wide grin and threw her arms around him, blocking half of his view with her wild curls. He hugged her back, leaving a kiss at the side of her head, relaxed to see her previously happy mood come back. She was always unpredictable, swinging from one mood to another without warning. Of course, he couldn't blame her.

But him making funny faces and noises on purpose always seemed to put a smile on her face.

"Now, it's late. Let's get you to bed," he said and picked her up, going for her bed.

"Mmm." She snuggled on his shoulder, her arms going a little slack. He leaned forward and she flopped dramatically on the bed, sticking out her tongue at him.

"Knackered, are we? Which story do you want today?" He sat at the side of the bed and covered her with her favourite blanket.

"I don't want a story today. Will you sing?"

His eyes lit up. She'd never told him to  _not_ sing or stop while he'd been doing that, but it was the first time she asked for it. "Of course, love. What song would you like?"

"That one with the 'moved through the fair'."

He couldn't help the smile, nor the slight melancholy inside. He knew she loved that song, it was after all, the one she'd heard the most. His hand went up to brush the always messy curls away from her face, and he began singing.

_My young love said to me..._


End file.
